Party Decorations

by Siobhann

Derek and Bruce were putting the finishing touches on their decorations for the Bacchanalia Party. The nightclub they work at is hosting the party this year and everyone brings decorations. It is a contest. We all rent in the same apartment building, so they got me some invites, and early that evening I drop by to see what they have created. I knock on the open door, and step in a bit, “guys, are you here” I say, as they shout from within to enter.

Hello's all around as Derek comes into the living room, wearing his usual leather body harness, codpiece and combat boots. Leather boys, they usually dress alike, as they are today, even coloring their mohawks the same shade of black as their leather. Already dressed for the party.

“Wanna see our new toy” Derek says with excitement, as he zips into the back room.

“Yeah, I gotta see your winning entry, don't hide it.” I shout back as I follow to the back bedroom, their art studio. Bruce is there, all sweaty in his leathers, splashes of latex smeared about him, and about the room, as he points to their hopefully winning entry in the decorations contest of tonights party.

It's a rather tall dildo. Quite lifelike, all veined and such, about four feet tall and black, still glistening as the latex dries, pooling up in the creases around the balls. Big balls. I kinda stare, never having seen one so big, but when I think about it, what else would Derek and Bruce bring to the party.

“So dreamy, isn't it?” Bruce sighs.

“Must weigh alot” I reply. “How much latex did you use?” as Derek hands me a beer.

“Cheers” drinks all around as Derek laughs and explains that is is quite hollow. He pridefully boasts that although it is latex, it will remain in shape as it is formed out of sprayfoam, plastic, glue etc, and that it took quite a while to get the proper shape. The first few collapsed, but this one is hard, um erect, er, stiff. One more piece of the puzzle and it will be finished.

“Great work, you'll win” I assure them as we all marvel at their masterpiece. Not everyday do I stare at a four foot tall cock, but this one looks like fun. They obviously had fun making it.

“Get a nice calming buzz on before that party” Bruce says as he hands me a shotglass. “You are going? Yes. Gonna see us win. Oh god, what if we don't win.” he frets. Nervous about his art being appreciated.

“We'll win love, we'll win. Just on shock” Derek is right. It is shocking, yet beautiful. So lifelike. It actually seems normal to have a dick that big just standing there. Of course, there is reason to fret. If you win, naturally, you are showered with presents. The reason to worry is, the last place entrants are one of the presents. Lose the contest, and you become a slave. Just for a bit. But actually, the boys have to worry more about how to entertain their new slaves than worrying about becoming one of the gifts.

“You shan't tell anyone” Derek tells me. “It's gotta stay a pre-party secret”. He then begins to buff and polish the enormous dong with all the love of a sculptor for his art. I sit down to watch this strange ritual, and enjoy a neighborly visit. We chat about who else is going to the party, and can only dream at what the other entries will be.

As we talk, I do feel a buzz coming on. Slowly, I realize I am getting lightheaded, and as I sink farther into the couch, that warm battered old leather couch in their studio, I feel warm, go all quiet. Kinda drunk, like when one doesn't want to move anywhere. As the boys work, I feel warm, aroused, and suddenly want to be naked. I must have drunk too much, and as I struggle to get naked Derek tells me “Let me help you. We need your help for the final piece. You want to help us, yes? You help with the decoration, then if we win, you can get a prize”.

I manage to get my shirt off before slumping back into that soft warm leather couch, tactile and delightful against my skin. I really am buzzed now, having lost the will to move. I sit and watch as they work around the dildo, and I don't even mind as Bruce gently slips my pants off.

So there I sit, naked, and, um, fondling myself in vain comparison to the giant, surrounded by lots of erotic art, and two happy leatherboys dancing around. As I begin to jack off a little more in earnest, the guys smile. It is just then that Daria walks in on us. Kind of a Swinging London wanna-be in a sleeveless leather dress and go-go boots, she lives down the hall. The three of them look at me, and I blush from the embarrassment. Then I kind of relish the embarrassment. Feeling quite exposed, and rather humiliated, I also feel rather turned on. Getting caught like this sends me into an erotic trance, I don't want to run or hide, I just keep jacking off looking at Daria. Waves of submissive pleasure caress me as my brain shuts off for a while, leaving my cock to do all the thinking.

Daria comes over to me and kneels one knee on the couch, here fingers just above my cockhead. I continue as I am, slowly stroking myself in the rapture of humiliation, caught now, no need to fight it. Daria seems to pick up on my vibe, and gets a little excited by it to. She looks at the boys, gives them a wink, they all nod in agreement, then she grabs my wrists and pulls me up.

She walks me over to the table upon which sits the massive cock. “They said it needed one last piece” Daria says as she leans my ass on the edge of the table. “And you are it” they all laugh at me a little.

Derek faces me and begins to stroke my shoulders, fingers running up and down my arms. He says “I told you it needed some help staying erect, and you are very erect indeed”.

I realize that in all this time I have not dropped my cock once, but now have one hand stroking and the other fondling my own balls. I feel deliciously drunk, and am quite unable to tell if this is all a dream anymore. Derek's' soft touch and the warm smell of leather, the erotic smell of latex and glue all combine in my senses making me hope it is not a dream. Daria leans in, and as her tongue plays my ear she breathes, “Thanks for letting us take you to the party, you ol' cock you”.

I think I realize what is happening, but this submissive feeling washing over me prevents me from caring. As Daria replaces Derek in front of me, stroking me, the boys jump up on the table. One of them reaches around my neck, hands busy as he places a posture collar on me. My head is pushed back, my face pushed up, I have been collared before, but this one really pushes me around. My face is tilted up as far as it will go, I look at the ceiling and Bruce looks down at me. Lovingly, gently, he places in my mouth a divers snorkel. I taste rubber, I suck air, I have done this much before. Everything after is brand new.

They lift their enormous cock decoration up into the air and as it hovers over me I can see that it is indeed hollow, a small hollow center in a bumpy, warm latexy tube. Then it is lowered onto me, my head goes in to the darkness, the cock snugs up around my shoulders. Tight fit. My captors pull and struggle and prod on me and the toy to fit me in. Tight snug fit, the cock swallows my body, shoulders, torso, arms. I am pulled straight by the enclosure, my hands finally falling away from my cock, arms pressed down to my sides as the latex cover descends over me, swallowing me.

I feel a hand on my face, then feel some tugging, pulling, then a deep breath of fresh air. Bruce reached down thru the eye of the cock, and pulled my snorkel tube up, so I can breathe in my entrapment. Breathing quite swiftly now, as my erection throbbing furiously needs lots of oxygen. I sway, fall, fly about as they drop me on the table, flat on my back, balls up in the air. I squirm my legs a little, but Daria sits on them and proceeds to lock up my cock. I guess I won't need the little one when I am becoming one big one.

She straps on a leather cockring, and a nice leather ball stretcher. She knows I like cbt, but we never... she must have heard. She must have heard about my cockplay from some old girlfriend. They seem to know I like public humiliation, but I never... I can't think about anything except pleasure as Daria laces my cock into a leather gates of hell harness, each little buckle getting cinched down tight. Sensation cuts thru my foggy mind as the excitement grows more intense with the pain...

They shove me farther into my cock prison. Now they are folding my legs, indian style I guess you call it, folding my legs in front of me so my heels almost touch my balls. Then straps. Yes, leather straps around my ankles to straps on my thighs, cinched tight, holding my legs in this odd sitting position. Some more pushing, pulling, prodding and I am in all the way. My face hits what must be the top of the cock, my head now inside its head, still breathing by the airhose thru the eye of the thing, I fill the erotic art object as they wrestle my legs to fit inside the balls. I am so snuggly shoved in here, it is impossible to get out. Not with out their help.

As I lay on my back, legs in the air, head tilted back, wedged in tight a prisoner of the diabolical artist, I release my fears and become just a sensual creature, I begin to feel like the giant sex toy I am. As my mind wanders to the erotic side of helplessness my body accepts the inevitable ass fucking dildo now sliding inside of me. Slowly, strongly, my ass is filled by a rubber cock, pushed inside, strong, intense feelings as that dildo is now being inflated. I imagine Daria's hand on the bulb, squeezing air into the toy, squeezing out any room inside me, Daria laughing, pushing my ass to the limit, slowly, one squeeze at a time, as my groans of pleasure escape me, sounding out my sublingual joy.

Plugged up, strapped down, shoved inside a sex toy prison, all I can do is experience the moment as my hands are coated in some sticky glue, and placed firmly on my ass cheeks. Coatings of sticky goop are now applied to my ass and thighs, cock and balls, any part still in view at the base of the shaft. With that done, a final sheet of latex is stretched across me, stretched across the base of the man sized dildo, sealing up the bottom, forming the base, well and truly sealing me in. For a moment I panic, but then surrender, surrender to being an erotic prisoner. I know I must get released. Sometime.

I smell glue, I taste glue, I feel my snorkel getting tugged a little. I bite down hard, making sure they can't pull my airtube out. But then the sensation stops. The air tube seems locked, open at least, but more solid. They must have cut it to fit, I think, and glued the edges in to make a flush finish. But they can still pull me out the bottom. Then inevitably I feel something near my balls. A little trickle at first, a little here, a little there. But it grows. Foam, expanding foam. One of them has sprayed in some expanding foam to lock me in, fill up the air pockets, bind me in tight. I feel well and truly lost, sealed in forever. Sealed in to my doom as a sex toy decoration at some party.

Locked into the soft warmness, I lose track of time, the snug imprisonment caressing my body, I float free in sensory deprivation, the aphrodisiac still coursing thru me, keeping me rather excited, as I wait passively for my fate to arrive.

On to the party...

(to be continued)

14.01.08

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